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by LanieSullivan
Summary: A collection of thoughts of someone watching the house on Maplewood Drive. Set Post-series. Mystery marriage still a mystery. one-shot.


Disclaimer: "Scarecrow and Mrs. King" is copyrighted to Warner Brothers and Shoot the Moon Productions. I retain rights to the plot, but not the characters. This story is meant for enjoyment purposes only. No infringement is intended.

Author's Note: This was an idea that took hold in the middle of the night and wouldn't let go until I wrote it, so here it is. Set post-series, Lee and Amanda's marriage still a secret. Special thanks to Jenniejoy72 for being my sounding board for this tale.

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He strode down the front walk of the house on Maplewood, then paused for a moment, turned and glanced back that the house that he'd just vacated, a house he'd left too many times when he shouldn't have. It was the only house that he'd ever thought of as home since his parents' house, but he knew it wasn't his home. It never really had been. Truth be told, he'd never really had a home or a desire for one since his parents' home. He glanced for a moment at the silver Corvette in the driveway and cringed slightly. His attention was soon diverted from the sleek sports car by a light being flicked on in the upstairs window, _her_ window. He watched for a moment at her silhouette against the curtains as she opened the window just about an inch or so. A flash of memory took hold. She always did like to sleep with the window open just enough to catch the night breezes. The light was then gone and he could no longer see her, but he imagined what she was doing. Her mother was on a weekend getaway with her "gentleman friend" as she called him, so she had the house to herself.

He sighed and glanced down at the wedding band on his left hand, a pang of regret filling him. He hated this mystery marriage and he'd told her so, but she'd been determined that that was the only way things could work. He'd kept this secret for longer that he'd wanted to, hoping that one day she'd come to her senses. He found, though, that he wasn't cut out for keeping this type of secret. He glanced again at his wedding ring and thought, _Maybe it's just marriage I'm not cut out for. _He wished he could say that his marriage was a happy one, a normal one, but as hard as he tried to make it so, it just wasn't. He'd begun to get that itch to travel again just to get away from the misery he felt at home. He'd once thought that itch was just youthful passion for adventure, but the older he got; the more he realized that it was just in his nature. It was a part of who he was.

He was beginning to feel that he just wasn't the settling-down type. He loved his wife, but he was learning the hard way that love just wasn't enough. He'd been nothing but a vast disappointment to everyone he had ever cared about. He reflected on the news that his beautiful bride had given him this afternoon and his reaction to it. He should have been happy, but he couldn't be. The idea that she was carrying his child just made him feel tied down and made him long for the days of non-stop travel and living out of a suitcase, rather than being shackled to the everyday, mundane routine that he'd always tried to keep from living. He had tried to feign elation at the news as any husband who loved his wife should, but it was futile. She had seen right through him and called him out on it, leading to a blazing screaming match, which had ended with her telling him to grow the hell up and him storming out of the house.

He couldn't honestly say that she was wrong. He'd acted like a horse's ass because he'd just been so thrown by the news of his impending fatherhood. He'd never anticipated that, but then again, he'd never anticipated falling so desperately in love with her either, not with his past being what it was. His past. She'd promptly thrown that in his face, telling him that she was wrong to trust him, that her unwavering belief in him in spite of his rocky past, had made her feel like a prize idiot now that she was seeing his true colors.

She was right and he knew she was. He'd tried to change, to be a better man, tried to start a new life, tried to be what she needed, to be normal...for her. He had tried so hard, talked about buying a house, getting out of the apartment, building a new life with her, until the unsettling news. _God, how I tried_, he thought with a sigh. For the past few months, he'd been doing everything that he could to prove that he was a changed man. He'd been doing what he thought he was supposed to do, spending the weekends at home, taking the boys to ball games, going to their school events, sitting with his wife in front of the TV with a bowl of popcorn while Phillip and Jamie would chatter on about their week and occasionally trying futilely to break up their fights, much to his wife's amusement.

He smiled for a moment as he thought of his wife and the way her eyes danced when she laughed at him trying to be a father-figure to two very stubborn boys who hadn't had much in the way of a male role model. She had told him soothingly many times to just give it time since they didn't really know him all that well or fully trust him, especially Jamie. He'd let them down too. He couldn't be the male role model that they needed. He just wasn't up to living the home life, his wanderlust, taking precedence over the stable home life that they required. No matter how much his wife had tried to build a warm, inviting place to come home to, it wasn't enough. Instead of being comforting, the warmth that she worked so hard to create just felt stifling to him. His smile soon faded and he cringed as he thought of the tears in her eyes and how he'd hurt her. He had a lot of making up to do and his standing here staring at this house wasn't going to get that done, but yet he still couldn't look away.

Thinking of warm, home environments drew his eyes back to the upstairs window to Amanda's bedroom. Guilt and regret swamped his soul as he thought of the woman inside; what he knew she'd be doing in that bedroom right now, thinking that he was long gone. He recalled how many times he'd made love to her in that very room, that his child had been conceived there, yet he'd still left her there alone time and time again. He wasn't bitter, wasn't pining, just remorseful. He'd hurt her so much, damaged her psyche, but she always bounced back, her eternal optimism always trying to make the best of things and look for the silver lining in any cloud. That was just Amanda King. C_orrection, Amanda Stetson, _he reminded himself, not that anyone knew that but them and a couple of others that they'd let in on their secret.

He finally forced his eyes away, glancing again at the 'vette with a shake of his head. He thought of all the times that he'd seen her happily riding around in the passenger seat instead of the practical family station wagon that was parked in front of it. He knew that car had sustained more than its fair share of damage in the line of duty, but it still looked pristine, its owner sparing no expense to keep it so. As he stared at it, he couldn't help wondering if he really cared for the woman in the house as much as he did that immaculately kept car. Did he keep her fueled up the way he did his vehicle? He supposed it didn't matter. His thoughts were interrupted by an impatient, "Hey!" behind him.

He turned toward the sound to see Jamie peering out of the back passenger side of the four-door sedan parked at the curb, a far cry from the racy vehicle that had captured his thoughts for a moment.

"Come on!" Jamie said. "Are we gonna' go or what?"

He took one last quick glance at the house, turned back toward the eleven-year-old whose conception he'd been thinking of just a moment ago. His thoughts briefly turned to the new baby on the way that he was going to have to talk himself into being happy about. It was too late to do anything about it now. He pasted on a smile as he approached the car. "Yeah, Carrie's really looking forward to having you guys spend the weekend," Joe King replied to his son as he got into the driver's side and faced the daunting task of going home and pretending that he was happy to be there.


End file.
